Read Aunt Dimity Goes West Online
Authors: Nancy Atherton
apprehensive about what I would hear. Annelise didn’t
usually consult with me or Bill about the twins unless
she needed serious backup, which she very seldom
did.Will and Rob really were great kids.
“Okay,” I said, gripping my glass with both hands.
“What happened at the ranch?”
“Two things,” said Annelise. “First, we had a little
language problem while we were on the trail ride.”
I smiled with relief, though I was frankly surprised
that she’d felt the need to bring such a trivial com-
plaint to my attention.
“The boys can’t help using English words and
phrases,” I said reasonably. “They’ve grown up with
them. Besides, you were there to translate.”
“I didn’t have to translate,” said Annelise. “The
Americans on the trail ride understood Will per-
fectly when he called the little boy ahead of him a ‘son of a bitch.’”
My jaw dropped and iced tea sloshed onto the
table.
“What?”
Annelise nodded. “They understood Rob, too,
when he used the word that rhymes with ‘duck.’”
“He . . .
what
?” I sputtered, spilling more tea.
“I don’t have to spell it out for you, do I?” Annelise
shook her head bemusedly. “They weren’t even angry.
The words just popped out of their mouths as if they
used them every day. Heaven knows what the other
adults on the ride thought about their upbringing.”
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“My sons have had an
excellent
upbringing,” I said, shaking drops of iced tea from my hands. “You know
very well that we don’t use that kind of language at
home. They must have picked it up from someone at
the ranch.”
“I’m sure they did,” said Annelise. “Two of the guest
children are foul-mouthed little beasts, and their par-
ents are just as bad, if not worse.”
“Did you have a talk with Rob and Will about good
manners and polite language?” I asked.
“Naturally,” said Annelise. “That’s when we ran
into the second problem. When I asked Will and Rob
where they’d heard those words, they told me they’d
heard them
here,
at the
Aerie.
Now, you and I don’t use that kind of language, and I don’t think Toby Cooper
does, either.”
“Toby would never swear in front of children,” I
agreed.
“Will and Rob assured me that they didn’t learn
the words from Toby,” said Annelise, “but they can’t say who they
did
learn them from. They insist that they heard them in their
tent,
in the
playroom,
during the
night.
They must be lying, Lori, and to tell you the truth, the lying troubles me more than the smutty language.” She paused. “Lori? Are you listening?”
I nodded vaguely as I stared into the middle dis-
tance at an image only I could see—the image of
Amanda Barrow’s hands recoiling from the playroom
tent as if they’d been scalded.
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“Those you love most will surprise you,” I said under
my breath.
“Sorry?” said Annelise.
“Nothing.” I cleared my throat and stood. “I’m sure
you handled the situation perfectly, Annelise. I don’t
think we should make a big deal out of it, but I’ll . . .
I’ll call Bill to see what he thinks.” I drummed my
damp fingers on the teak table. “Yes. I’ll call him right now. I’ll be in the master suite, and I don’t want to be disturbed.”
“All right,” said Annelise. “Give him my best.”
“Who?” I said blankly.
“Bill,” said Annelise, eyeing me curiously. “Give
Bill my best.”
“Oh yes,” I said. “I’ll do that.”
I left the breakfast deck and crossed the great
room at a rapid pace, breaking into a run as soon as I
reached the foyer. I dashed up the stairs, through the
corridor, and into the master suite, where I snatched
the blue journal from the white armchair and opened
it without bothering to sit.
“Dimity,” I said urgently. “I need to talk to you.You,
too, Mr. Pennyfeather, if you’re around. Something
really weird is going on.”
Twenty-two
A unt Dimity’s familiar handwriting was the
first to appear on the page, followed closely
by Cyril Pennyfeather’s flowery script.
What seems to be the problem, my dear?
May I help in any way?
“Are both of you one hundred percent
sure
that the Aerie isn’t cursed?” I asked.
I think I can speak for both Mr. Pennyfeather and myself
when I state categorically that the Aerie is curse-free.What’s
troubling you, Lori?
“Amanda Barrow.” I lowered myself into the white
armchair and stared pensively at the ashes in the grate.
The psychic?
Aunt Dimity clarified.
The hysterical psychic? Cyril added.
“She may have been hysterical, but she gave me a
pretty accurate description of you, Mr. Pennyfeather,”
I reminded him. “After you took off, she looked into
her crystal ball and started telling me things. I thought it was a big joke at the time, but I’m not so sure
anymore.”
What sort of things did she tell you?
“She said I’d come from afar,” I began, “and she was
right—I came to Colorado all the way from England.”
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She could have heard of your journey from any number of
sources.
“That’s what I thought,” I said. “But she also pre-
dicted that I’d meet a short, dark stranger.”
Shouldn’t it be a tall, dark stranger?
I glanced down at Cyril’s polite inquiry and re-
membered that Toby had muttered the same thing as
Amanda had peered into her orb, but I was too dis-
tressed to crack a smile.
“Amanda predicted that I’d meet a
short,
dark
stranger,” I said, “and she was right again. James Blackwell showed up at the Aerie this morning. He’s short,
dark-haired, and deeply tanned, and until today he
was definitely a stranger.”
James Blackwell, the missing caretaker, returned to the
Aerie this morning?
“Yes, but let’s stick with Amanda for the moment,”
I said, refusing to be distracted. “She also said that
Death had come to claim me, but I’d escaped his
grasp.”
How clever of her. After Abaddon attacked you, you came
as close to dying as anyone can come, but you rallied and
recovered. Have you mentioned the incident to anyone who
could have passed the news along to Amanda?
“Annelise knows about the shooting, of course,” I
said, “but she’d never breathe a word about it to any-
one here. Toby knows about it, too, but I didn’t tell
him about it until last night,
after
Amanda had said her piece.”
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259
I see. What other interesting tidbits did Amanda Barrow
share with you?
“She told me that those I loved would surprise
me,” I said, “and guess what? She was right
again.
Bill surprised the heck out of me this morning when he
told me that he’d be arriving at the Aerie next week.”
Why were you surprised? It’s exactly the sort of thing Bill
would do.
“True,” I allowed, “ but he wasn’t the only loved
one who surprised me today. Annelise just finished
telling me that Will and Rob not only used smutty lan-
guage at the ranch yesterday, but lied to her when she
asked them where they’d learned it.”
Will and Rob don’t use smutty language or tell lies.
“I know,” I said emphatically. “That’s why I was sur-
prised.”
To summarize: Amanda Barrow was correct about Mr.
Pennyfeather, your long journey, your meeting with James
Blackwell, your close encounter with death, and the twins’
surprising naughtiness. Perhaps she does have a gift after all,
over and above her ability to accurately describe ethereal escorts.
“If she does,” I said, “then something’s seriously out
of whack because, unlike you and Mr. Pennyfeather,
Amanda thinks the Aerie’s cursed. She convinced
Tammy, the Auerbachs’ teenaged daughter, that the
Aerie is cursed, and she came here today to inform me
of the same thing.”
Amanda Barrow is mistaken.
No one can be right all the time.
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“Amanda’s batting average is pretty spectacular so
far,” I said anxiously.
True.What, exactly, did she tell you about the curse?
“She seemed to sense something underneath the
tent in the playroom,” I said. “There’s nothing under the tent but floorboards, but Florence Auerbach was so
concerned about the floorboards in the family suite that she asked James Blackwell to take a look at them.Why
is everyone taking such a keen interest in floorboards?”
Floorboards make noises, Lori, especially when a new
building is settling onto its foundations.
“The Aerie was built only two years ago,” I said. “It
must still be settling.”
A new building’s normal noises can seem quite eerie,
especially if they’re heard in the dead of night by a listener
who is predisposed to hear eerie sounds.
“So if Tammy Auerbach heard a floorboard creak
or a door squeak, she’d think it was a manifestation of
the curse,” I said.
The poor child must have been a nervous wreck. Florence
Auerbach probably asked James Blackwell to check the family
suite’s floorboards in order to convince Tammy that nothing
was wrong with them.
“But Tammy was too far gone by then,” I said, nod-
ding. “James Blackwell told me that Tammy was so jit-
tery she was losing sleep—”
The balm of hurt minds.
“That’s right, Mr. Pennyfeather,” I said. “And with-
out her nightly dose of balm, Tammy got more and
more jumpy, just like I did.”
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261
I suspect that Florence Auerbach took her daughter away
from the Aerie for much the same reason Bill sent you away
from the cottage.
“She didn’t want Tammy to have a nervous break-
down,” I said. “But Tammy was so afraid of the curse that she refused to return to the Aerie, so Mrs. Auerbach
decided to sell it.”
If Tammy told Amanda about the strange sounds she’d
heard at the Aerie,Amanda would naturally make a fuss over
the floorboards.Their curious creaks and moans would lend
credence to her claim that the Aerie is cursed.
“But Amanda went to the playroom when she
came here today,” I said. “Why didn’t she go to
Tammy’s room?”
I imagine she chose a room at random. As long as it was
in the family suite, it would serve her purpose, which was to
give a convincing performance.
“I suppose so,” I said reluctantly.
You still sound troubled, my dear.
“I am,” I admitted. “According to Amanda, the
curse is in the fabric of the building. I can’t help re-
membering that Danny Auerbach recycled lumber
from the old mine buildings when he constructed the
Aerie.What if the curse is still . . . clinging to the old wood in the floorboards under the tent?”
There is no curse, Lori.There is only a woman who needs
to convince others of its existence. Amanda Barrow is a local.
She’s known about the recycled lumber ever since the Aerie
was built. If I were her, I’d use that knowledge to give my false
claims the ring of truth.
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Nancy Atherton
Aunt Dimity’s argument made good sense, but I
was still worried.
“Will and Rob told Annelise that they learned their
smutty vocabulary in the playroom tent,” I said. “When
Amanda came here, she made a beeline for the tent.
She may be blowing smoke about the curse, but what
if she actually sensed something sinister in the play-
room? You mentioned disembodied voices when we
spoke the other night, Mr. Pennyfeather. What if a
foul-mouthed spirit is hanging around the tent at
night, teaching my sons to swear?”
Miss Westwood and I are the only spirits currently in residence at the Aerie, Lori, and we are not in the habit of using rude language.
“Can you be sure there’s no one else?” I persisted.
“Maybe a demon flew in under your radar.”
Ah yes, I know about radar now, thanks to Miss Westwood’s excellent explanation, and I can assure you that no demon has flown under ours. A demon’s signal, so to speak, is quite distinctive. I would be instantly aware of it, as would Miss Westwood.
“My sons don’t lie, Mr. Pennyfeather,” I said stub-
bornly. “And you admitted only a moment ago that
Amanda might have real gifts, Dimity.”
So I did, but she also appears to crave attention almost as
much as she enjoys upsetting people. I repeat: There is no curse.
Since Mr. Pennyfeather and I seem unable to reassure you on
that score, however hard we try, might I suggest an experiment?
“Go ahead,” I said.
Sleep in the playroom tonight, Lori. I strongly doubt that
you’ll hear a demonic chorus serenading you with obsceni-
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263
ties, but I’m certain that a night spent with your ear pressed
to the floorboards will convince you that Mr. Pennyfeather
and I are more reliable than Amanda Barrow when it comes
to the detection of curses and evil spirits.